On the Way Down
by ThirteenXSeventeenXNineteen
Summary: *Rated T just in case* What if Toby hadn't shown interest in Emily in Flawless? What if it was Spencer? How different would the story have been? Starts, obviously, in Flawless
1. And We Thought We Were Friends

**A/N: I got this idea when I was looking through my bookshelf, trying to decide on what to read, and when I saw 'Flawless' it reminded me about the reason I like the show a **_**little**_** bit more than the books. So I decided to change it. As of right now, I have the book in front of me, ready to make this as close to the actual book **_**Flawless**_** as possible. I'm going to have exact conversations from the book, only a little different and some completely new ones that never existed, though they should have.**

**Because of the show, I now **_**love**_** Spence and Toby, or Tencer/Soby/Spoby. Even before the show, I didn't want Toby to die. He was one of my favorite characters, a little creepy or not. But that's just me.**

**Disclaimer: Anything you **_**don't**_** recognize is mine and anything you **_**do**_** recognize**** isn't.**

Spencer, after looking at A's text again, slid her Sidekick back into her tweed Kate Spade bag and said, "We shouldn't talk about this here." Aria had just suggested that the text meant The Jenna Thing, where a lot of people could hear.

Referring to the Rosewood Day Elementary playground, their old meeting place, Aria asked, "The swings?"

Spencer nodded. "I'll meet you there." She pushed her way through the crowd, reeling. At first she had thought A had been Ali, but now that idea was impossible. Ali was dead, but her secrets weren't.

It was late afternoon on the crystal clear fall day, the air smelling like apples and wood smoke. It was nothing like the fresh, springy April in sixth grade, but it, or the text, made Spencer remember the night of The Jenna Thing.

_Ali had just shot the firework into the tree house window, and Spencer had run outside just in time to smell the stench of burning hair and watch the paramedics bring Jenna down the shaky tree house rope ladder._

"_Did you do that on purpose?" A terrified Spencer demanded of an equally terrified Ali, who was next to her._

_Clutching her arm, she almost shouted, "No! It was-"_

_It was then that Toby Cavanaugh had started coming straight for them. The pale, tall, and skinny boy's hair was matted to his head, and his goth-pale face was flushed. He stepped right up to Ali._

_Toby was so angry he was shaking. "_I saw you._"A police car had pulled into his driveway, and he glanced at it. "I'm going to tell."_

_Spencer had gasped, but Ali seemed perfectly calm. "Yeah,_ _but I saw _you_, Toby," she had said. "And if you tell, I'll tell, too. Your _parents_."_

"_No." Toby had said, taking a step back._

_Ali countered, "_Yes_," She seemed taller, although she was only five-three. "_You_ lit the firework. You hurt your sister. Spencer wondered what she was doing. Ali shook her off when she grabbed her arm._

_Almost inaudibly, he mumbled, "Stepsister." Then he glanced at his tree house and then at the end of the street. Another police car had pulled up into his driveway. He growled at Ali, "I'll get you. Just you wait." Then he was gone._

Spencer shook her head. Ali had told her what she had seen Toby do, something that made her forget that she was holding a lit firework, only remembering when it shot out of her hands and through the tree house window.

Ali made her promise not to tell the others about any of it, and told her if she _did_ tell them, she find a way to make Spencer- and only her- to take the blame. She kept her mouth shut, terrified of what Ali might do.

When Ali had disappeared, and she as questioned by police, she had wanted to tell them that it was Toby. But she couldn't. But naming Toby meant telling the police about The Jenna Thing. Who was _really_ responsible for Jenna's accident. That'd she'd known the truth all this time and hadn't said anything. She'd have to tell her friends the secret she'd been keeping for more than a year. So she said nothing.

Spencer thought Toby was A, but it was impossible. A knew things only Ali knew, like back in seventh grade when she had kissed Ian, her sister Melissa's boyfriend, only admitting it to Ali, who loved to hold it over her head. A also knew about Wren, her sister's now-ex, whom she had done more than kiss.

Then again, the Cavanaughs _did_ live on her street. If he really wanted to, Toby could look into her bedroom window, with the help of binoculars. And he _was _in Rosewood, although he should have been at board school. It was September.

She got into her car and headed towards the playground. After a little while, she pulled into the brick-paved driveway of the Rosewood Day School. Her friends were already huddling by the elementary school jungle gym.

When Spencer approached, Hanna asked, "So we all got texts from this A person?" With their phones out, they all stared at the _I know everything_ note.

"I got two others," said Emily tentatively. "I thought they were from Ali."

"I did too!" gasped Hanna, slapping her hand down on the climbing dome. Spencer and Aria nodded. With wide, nervous eyes, they looked at each other.

"What did yours say?" Spencer asked, looking at Emily.

Pushing a lock of blondish-red hair out of her eye, Emily muttered, "It's… personal."

Laughing out loud from how surprising that was, she stated, "You don't have secrets, Em!"

Emily, the purest, sweetest girl on the planet, looked offended. "Yeah, well, I do."

Spencer plopped down on one of the slide's steps. "Oh." She breathed in, expecting to smell mulch and sawdust, but instead catching a whiff of burning hair, just like the night of Jenna's accident. She didn't like it.

Hanna, wrinkling her pert nose, scrunched her perfect eyebrows together slightly. "If Emily's not talking about hers, I don't want to talk about mine. It was something only Ali knew."

"Same with mine," Aria said quickly, before lowering her eyes and saying, "Sorry."

"So everyone has secrets only _Ali_ knew?" Spencer asked.

Everyone nodded. Spencer snorted nastily. "I thought we were her best friends."

Aria turned to her and frowned. "What did yours say, then?"

Feeling like her Ian secret was juicy, Spencer didn't say anything. It was absolutely _nothing_ compared to what more she knew about The Jenna Thing. Now she felt too proud to tell. Pushing her long dirty-blonde hair behind her ears, she said, "It's a secret only Ali knew, same as yours. But A also e-mailed me about something that's happening now. It felt like someone was _spying_ on me."

"Same here." Aria said, ice-blue eyes widening.

"So there's someone watching all of us," Emily concluded. She shook a ladybug off of her shoulder as if she thought it were something much scarier.

Spencer stood, "Do you think it could be… Toby?"

Everyone looked surprised. Aria asked, "Why?"

Spencer carefully said, "He's part of The Jenna Thing. What if he knows?"

Aria, pointing to the text on her Treo, said "You really think this is about… The Jenna Thing?"

Licking her lips, Spencer thought, _Tell them_. "We still don't know why he took the blame." She suggested this to see what the other three would say.

"The only way Toby could know what we did is if one of us told." Hanna said after thinking for a moment, looking at the others distrustfully. "_I_ didn't tell."

"Me either." Emily and Aria piped up quickly.

Spencer asked, "What if he found out another way?"

Aria looked confused. "You mean if someone else saw Ali that night and told him? Or if he saw Ali?"

Spencer stuttered, "No… I mean… I don't know. I'm just throwing it out there."

_Tell them_, she thought again, but she couldn't. They all seemed wary of each other, like it had been right after Ali went missing. If Spencer told the truth about Toby, they'd hate her for not having told the police the night Ali disappeared. They'd blame her or Ali's death. Maybe they should. What if… Toby really had done it? She heard herself say, "It was just a thought. I'm probably wrong.

Emily's eyes were wet. "Ali said no one knew except for us. She _swore_ to us. Remember?"

Hanna added, "Besides, how could Toby know that much about us? I could see it being one of Ali's old soccer friends, or her brother, or someone she actually spoke to. But she hated Toby's guts. We all did." _Not all of us_, Spencer thought. Where had that come from?

As soon as she said it, Spencer relaxed. "You're probably right." She was obsessing over nothing.

Everything was quiet, too quiet. A tree branch snapped close by, causing Spencer to whirl around sharply. Swinging back and forth, the swings looked as if someone had jumped off. The brown bird perched on top of the Rosewood Day sign glared at them, as if it knew things as well/

Aria whispered, "I think someone's trying to mess with us."

Emily, sounding just as unconvinced agreed, "Yeah."

"So, what if we get another note? We should at least figure out who it is." Hanna tugged her short black dress over her slender thighs.

"How about, if we get another note, we call each other," suggested Spencer. "We could try to put the pieces together. But I don't think we should do anything, like, crazy. We should try not to worry."

Hanna quickly said, "I'm not worried," and, at the same time, Emily and Aria said, "Me either." But then a car horn honked, and they all jumped. It was then Mona Vanderwaal, Hanna's best friend pulled up. Hanna stood and left with a quick, "I've got to go."

Heading for her Subaru, Aria pushed her slouchy purple bag higher up on her shoulder. "I should go too. So… I'll call you guys."

Spencer and Emily lingered by the swings. Emily's normally cheerful face looked drawn and tired. Spencer but a hand on her freckled arm, and asked, "You all right?"

Emily shook her head. "Ali. She's -"

"I know." They awkwardly hugged, and Emily broke away, heading for the woods, saying she was taking the shortcut home.

Back in her car, Spencer sank into the leather seat and turned on the radio, spinning the dial until she found 610 AM Philly's sports radio station. Something about over-testosteroned guys barking about Phillies and Sixers stats calmed her. She had held a hope that talking to her old friends would have cleared some things up, but now things felt even more confusing.

Her cell phone buzzed in her pocket, she pulled it out, thinking it was probably Aria or Emily. Maybe even Hanna. Spencer opened her inbox, frowning.

_Spence, I don't blame you for not telling them our little secret about Toby. The truth can be dangerous – and you don't want them getting hurt, do you? – A_

She almost growled. Throwing her phone into her purse, she sped off towards her house. She was so _sick_ of A already. How could one person (if they were one person) know so much? It was just so frustrating! She couldn't relax now. The message had her on edge. She only relaxed some when she pulled into her driveway.

She ran inside, since her parents and Melissa weren't there. Taking a shower helped her clear her head, so she did just that. With the warm water cascading over her, she could think. Why was someone messing with them? All of the things they did were because of Ali, and now Ali was dead. But Spencer could have said 'no' to Ali. But then again, you don't say 'no' to her.

Fifteen minutes later, she was in a pair of plaid shorts and a Rosewood hoodie, her hair slightly damp. She silently and carefully walked to her window and looked out. She could see people returning from the funeral. Some of those people being the Cavanaughs. When Toby got out, she watched with baited breath. His parents were paying attention to Jenna, making sure she got out safely. Toby was looking over at the old DiLaurentis' house, now the St. Germain's. He was glaring, but when he looked over to her house, her _window_, his gaze softened ever so slightly. Why? Didn't he hate her?

With that buzzing around in her head, she laid down, trying to get some sleep. But she couldn't. Why did Toby Cavanaugh almost stop glaring when he looked at where she lived? Why did it bug her that much? And why couldn't she stop thinking about him?

**A/N: This is going to be my **_**longest**_** story so far. Like I said before, I love the couple and I'm going to put them together in my version of the books, no matter what Sara Shepard had written.**


	2. A House Divided

**A/N: Happy Easter! It may not be Easter when I post this, but it was when I wrote this. I haven't been able to write until today (Sunday) because my aunt flew down from Virginia and I've been hanging out with her, since I haven't seen her since I last visited her… five years ago. And she went back today so I now have time. **

**OK, I've been reading some of the 5 chapter (Spencer's next one after the 1****st****) and I don't like how it's really played out, so I'm definitely changing a lot more than the last chapter. I'm making it so Spencer doesn't want any more contact with Wren, because she feels really bad about when she made out with him. Huge mistake, in my opinion.**

**Disclaimer: Sara Shepard owns PLL, even though she messed up with some of the couples.**

Spencer awoke on the bathroom floor of her upstairs bathroom with no idea how she had gotten there. The clock on the shower radio said 6:45 P.M. Out the window, the evening sun cast long shadows on their yard. It was still Monday, the day of Ali's funeral. She must've fallen asleep and sleepwalked. She used to be a chronic sleepwalker- it got so bad that in seventh grade, she had to spend a night at the University of Pennsylvania Sleep Evaluation Clinic with her brain hooked up to the electrodes. The doctors told her it was just stress.

She stood and ran cold water over her face, looking at herself in the mirror as she did so. Long blonde hair, emerald-green eyes, pointed chin. Her skin was flawless and her teeth were radiantly white. It was preposterous she didn't look as wrecked as she felt.

The equation ran over again in her head: A knew about Toby and The Jenna Thing. Toby was back. Therefore, Toby _had_ to be A. It made sense, but she didn't want to believe it. And she didn't know _why_ she didn't want to believe it.

She pressed her forehead to the window back in her bedroom. To her left was her family's own private windmill- it had long ago stopped working, but her parents loved how it gave their property such a rustic, authentic look. To her right, the Do Not Cross tape was still all over the DiLaurentises' lawn. The Ali shrine, which consisted of candles, photos, flowers, and other knickknacks in Ali's honor, had grown larger, swallowing the whole cul-de-sac.

Across the street from that was the Cavanaughs' house. Two cars in the driveway, a basketball in the yard, the little red flag up on the mailbox. She stared at the house for a few minutes before a slide-whistle noise from her computer made Spencer jump. It was her new e-mail alert. She paced over to her computer nervously and double-clicked the new message.

_Hi, love. Haven't spoken to you in two days, and I'm going crazy missing you. – Wren._

After reading it, she _wished_ it was A. Why couldn't he just leave her alone? She just spent the entire weekend convincing Melissa she was caught up in the moment and that she honestly, _truly_ regretted it. She also spent the first few days trying to get her to talk to her. Her parents still had no clue what was going on. Melissa never said anything, but Spencer had to let her have the barn and have no more contact with him, which wasn't exactly hard to agree to. She stared at the message for a minute, before leaving her room feeling groggy and unsettled, thinking a walk would help.

She went down the stairs and slipped on her sneakers, having already changed out of the depressing black dress and then plaid shorts she was wearing, opting for a pair of dark wash jeans, leaving the hoodie on. Oddly enough, her parents and Melissa _still_ weren't home, so she had absolutely no problem leaving the house.

Walking down the sidewalk, her phone chimed in her pocket. She froze, wondering what A could possible want. She read the text with a groan, realizing who it really was. She ignored the second- her phone chimed again- third- it chimed again- _fourth_- oh come on! He just wouldn't leave her alone! She had to talk to her parents about a new number. But that would cause questions, questions she didn't want to answer. She walked out of her neighborhood and headed towards town.

When she neared the mall, she realized coming to town was a big mistake. There, about ten feet away was Wren. She kept her head down, all to no avail. He noticed her and headed over. "Spencer!" He almost shouted. "How come you're ignoring me?" He was right in front of her.

She stared at him defiantly. "You and I both know that thing in the barn was a mistake and shouldn't have happened."

"But it did and it wasn't a mistake."

"It was." When he got closer, she tried not to show fear, not of him, but of the consequences if Melissa saw them. Still, she couldn't help taking a step back. He noticed, and smirked in way that said he now had something over her. He got closer. As he did, she said, "Leave me alone." He didn't. He froze, though, when he heard an unfamiliar voice, to him, speak.

"There a problem?"

To the right of them stood a boy in a Tate Prep warm-up jacket, looking as if he was just a swim practice a few minutes ago. Spencer squinted. Was that…?

"It doesn't concern you." Wren said loudly, trying to draw attention. It didn't work. The boy stepped closer. It was.

_Toby Cavanaugh_.

Toby walked closer to Spencer, and, after seeming to have an almost unnoticeable debate with himself, threw an arm across her shoulder. Wren moved back, no longer crowding Spencer, for which she was grateful. She was confused. Why was Toby helping her?

Wren looked as confused as she felt. "What's going on? Are you two, uh… together?"

"It doesn't concern you." Toby mocked.

Wren glared at them, then turned around. He started walking away, using his shoulder to shove past people. When he was gone, Toby removed his arm. Turning to look at her, he asked, "You all right?"

Keeping her head down, Spencer nodded. "I think so."

"You sure?"

Spencer sneaked a peek at Toby. He was really tall now and his face was no longer rodentlike and guarded but, well, high-cheekboned and dark-eyed gorgeous. She quietly cleared her throat. "I guess." Glancing behind him, she noticed a car with three people staring at them with wide mouths.

"I have to go," she said, "But thank you."

"What's wrong now?"

She nudged her chin towards her mom's car, where her parents and Melissa were staring at them. "We've attracted quite an audience."

"Oh. Well, I'll see you later, then."

"Bye." She headed towards the car. She hesitated in front of the backseat door. She hadn't spoken to them since before Ali's funeral-she'd driven there alone and had barely seen them afterwards on the lawn. She didn't want to sit through subtle glares coming from Melissa and sympathetic glances from her parents.

She moved up to the passenger side, where her mother had rolled down the window. "I'm just going to walk home." Her mother gave her one of those _I feel bad for you_ looks and nodded her head. She glanced at her dad, who was also nodding his head.

"We'll see you at home." Moving back from the car as her dad pushed it in reverse, Spencer watched the car drive away, not noticing a head of curly blonde hair in the back with Melissa until the car was almost gone. She closed her eyes for a second, took a deep breath and headed home. She didn't see the two pairs of eyes following her, one pair protective and the other angry.

When she walked inside, her family had already started dinner, what she hoped was their way of saying she had all the time she needed and not because Melissa said anything. And they had company. Ian Thomas, Melissa's old boyfriend – and the first of Melissa's exes that Spencer had kissed – was sitting in what should've been Spencer's seat.

All four of them looked up when she walked in. Ian was the only one that spoke. "Hey Spence! How are you?" He asked as if he ate in the Hastingses' kitchen every day. It was hard enough for her that Ian was coaching her field hockey team at Rosewood – but this was just bizarre.

"I'm… fine," Spencer said as she looked shiftily at the rest of her family, waiting for someone to explain why Ian was scarfing down Thai food in their kitchen. No one did. She pulled a chair up to the corner of the table and started to spoon some lemongrass chicken onto her plate. "So, um, Ian. You're having dinner with us?"

Ian explained, "We ran into each other at the, um, memorial." A siren interrupted him, and Ian dropped his fork. The noise was most likely coming from the DiLaurentises' house. Police cars had been there non-stop. "Pretty crazy, huh?" Ian said, running a hand through his hair. "I didn't know so many cop cars would still be here."

Spencer could see that Melissa was about to reply, so she cut in. "Melissa? Could I talk to you?" She asked motioning with her head to the backyard."

Picking up the napkin form her lap and dropping it on the table, Melissa replied, "Sure, " and followed her out the back door.

"I know you're mad at me. I would be too, but, I mean, I can't… I can't have you hate me. You have completely every right to run in and tell Mom and Dad. I'd understand. But I want you to understand that I really _do_ regret that thing with Wren, and I'm not just saying that so you'll forgive me. I wish it never happened and I'd change it if I could." She swallowed thickly. Apologizing made her nervous.

"I know you would, Spence. Why-" Melissa was cut off when the doorbell rang and their father shouted, "What are you doing here?" They exchanged a worried look and rushed inside, only to see Wren standing in the doorway, smirking smugly.

"Oh, I just thought you'd like to know _why_ Melissa and I broke up." Spencer's eyes widened. She could count on Melissa not saying anything, but she forgot _Wren _could.

Her mom, after taking a hearty sip of wine, looked annoyed. "Wasn't it because you two had nothing in common?"

"No. It was because Spencer and I-"

"Got into an argument, and he almost hurt her." Melissa interjected, "I suggest you leave before you start something you can't finish."

Ian stood then, and said something Toby had said not an hour ago, "There a problem here?"

Wren obviously remembered Toby, even though he didn't know him. He took a step back from them, almost shrinking from the four glares he was receiving. "No." And then he disappeared through the door. Melissa shook her head and walked over to Ian.

"Come one." She said and took his arm. "Let's go out for dessert."

"Sure." Ian clapped a hand on Spencer's shoulder. "Spence? Want to come?"

Spencer didn't really want to. The funeral and encounters with Wren left her exhausted. "No, Ian. I think I'm just going to go to bed. Thanks, anyway." She headed for the stairs and up to her room.

She laid back down and tried to fall asleep, which was now impossible, with her phone buzzing for the sixth time that day.

_Melissa may be keeping your secret, Spence, but I may not. Step out of line and the whole town will know how badly you want what Melissa has. – A_

**A/N: It's going to seem as if Melissa's nice, but she's really not going to be. Wren will show up more, unfortunately. But so will Toby. Obviously. I'm not going to do the cliché thing of making everything that happened to Emily happen to Spencer to have her interact with Toby. I'm going to use some of them, but I'll be making up others.**


	3. Next Time, Don't Go Into Strangers' Car

**A/N: I updated yesterday, and I'm updating today. It official: I have **_**way**_** too much time on my hands. Oh well. I'm going to a song-fic like chapter soon, whichever chapter the dance, Foxy, is in. I'm not sure which song to use though. I might use:**

**Never Gonna Be Alone by Nickelback  
>Collide by Howie Day<br>Lost In You by Three Days Grace  
>I'd Come For You by Nickelback<br>Bleed by Hot Chelle Rae  
>Why Don't You Kiss Her? By Jesse McCartney<br>That's Where It Is by Carrie Underwood  
>Crazier by Taylor Swift<br>OR  
>Second Chance by Shinedown<strong>

**And to CrypticnotesandSpencerxToby: Thank you! That's really sweet. Since you seem to be the only one reviewing, which song should I choose? I'm not sure yet 'cause they're all great songs. Oh, and it's not a secret. I will **_**not**_** be killing Toby off. I love him and the couple too much to get rid of him. I'm going to write **_**Flawless**_** how it would be if he didn't die. I'm also going to write the rest of the books with him and Spencer together.**

**Disclaimer: If Toby's not alive, and not with Spencer, then I don't own it.**

On Wednesday afternoon, Mr. McAdam, Spencer's AP economics teacher, strolled up and down the aisles, peeling papers off of a stack and putting them facedown on each student's desk. He was a tall man with bulging eyes, a sloped nose, and a paunchy face. A few years ago, one of his top students remarked that he looked like Squidward from _SpongeBob SquarePants_, and the name stuck. He murmured, "A lot of these quizzes were very good.

Spencer straightened up. Doing what she always did when she wasn't sure how she'd done on a test, she thought of the rock-bottom grade she could get, a grade that would still ensure she had an A for the class. Usually, the grade in her mind was so low- although low for Spencer was a B plus or, at the very worse, a B– that ended up being pleasantly surprised. _B plus_, she told herself as Squidward put the test on her desk. _That's rock-bottom_. Then she turned it over.

B_ minus_.

Okay, so maybe she hadn't studied enough.

As Squidward gave them their homework assignment, Spencer looked at her notes. Her handwriting had wavered all over the page, different from the way she usually squeezed it in neatly between the lines. She began to quickly recopy the notes, but the bell interrupted her, and she sheepishly rose to leave. B _minus_.

"Miss Hastings?"

Looking up, she saw Squidward was gesturing her toward his desk. She walked over, straightening her navy Rosewood Day blazer and taking extra caution not to trip in her caramel-colored kidskin riding boots. "You're Melissa Hastings's sister, yes?"

She felt her insides wilt. "Uh-huh." It was obvious where this was going.

"This will be quite a treat for me, then." He said, tapping his mechanical pencil on his desk. "It was such a pleasure to have Melissa in class." _Oh course it was_. "Where is Melissa now?"

She gritted her teeth. "She's at Wharton. Getting her MBA."

Squidward smiled. "I always knew she'd go to Wharton." He gave Spencer a long look. "The first set of essay questions is due next Monday," he said. "And here's a hint: the supplemental books I've mentioned on the syllabus will help."

"Oh." She felt self-conscious. Was he giving her a tip because she was Melissa's sister, or because she'd gotten a B minus and he felt sorry for her? She squared her shoulders. "I was planning to get them anyway.

He looked at her evenly. "Well, good." He then trudged out into the hall.

It was the end of the day. Rosewood students were bustling around their lockers, dragging books into their bags, making plans on their cell phones, or getting their gear for sports practice. Spencer had field hockey at three, but she wanted to hit Wordsmith's for Squidward's books first. Then, after that, she had to check in with the yearbook staff to see what was up with the Habitat Humanity volunteer list, and say hi to the drama club advisor. She might be a couple minutes late to hockey, but what could she do?

She instantly felt calmer as she pushed the door of Wordsmith's Books open. The store was always quiet, with no obsequious salespeople shooing you out. The staff didn't get prissy when cell phones rang, either, which was exactly what Spencer's was doing right now. She felt extremely annoyed as she saw the number.

"Wren," she hissed, "Leave me alone!"

"Oh, come one, love." He chided as if she were a small child. "You-" He never finished. Spencer hit the end button and put her phone away. She heaved a sigh. Suddenly, the bookstore felt too quiet. The classical CD had stopped.

She walked to the economics section and quickly found the books on Squidward's list. There was one on the top shelf, though, she couldn't reach. She stood there jumping for a minute, looking like a fool, before a hand grabbed her wrist, pulled her back slightly, and got it down. She turned and saw Toby standing there. He handed her the book smirking slightly. She took it. "Thanks."

He nodded. "No problem."

"So," she started awkwardly, "What're you doing here."

"Syllabus books."

"Oh. Me too." After a very awkward silence that lasted entirely _way_ too long, she continued. "I should go." When he nodded in turn, she walked to the counter, and handed over her credit card, nervously fidgeting with the silver buttons of her blazer. She so didn't want to go to hockey and her activities after this. She just wanted to go home and hide.

The checkout girl, who had three eyebrow rings, handed her a bag with all her books. "Have a nice day."

"You too." She called over her shoulder. She started heading back towards the school, smelling a hint of fall in the air. She figured she'd just go and her field hockey coach, _Ian_, she corrected herself, that she didn't feel too well and that she just wanted to go home. Since she was Melissa's sister, and they seemed to be back together, she'd probably be able to. Sometimes, having Melissa as a sister had its perks.

"Spencer!" someone called behind her.

She turned around to see who it was, not noticing a tree root until she found herself on the ground. _Stupid boots_.

"Oh my God, are you okay?" a voice called.

Opening her eyes, she saw Toby standing over her. He had the hood of his parka up now, so his face looked shadowed and hollow. He crouched down. "Let me help you."

Spencer cautiously moved her legs, then pulled up her pant leg to inspect the long, harsh scrape on her shin. "No. It's OK, I'm fine."

"You left this back in the store." He handed her a book that was on the top of Squidward's syllabus. It was thick, so she had no idea how she didn't realize it wasn't there. This whole Wren fiasco had her completely reeling.

She took it from him. "Thanks." It was the second time she had said that in less than twenty minutes.

Looking at the scrape, Toby frowned. "That looked kind of bad. You want to get into my car? I think I have some Band-Aids…."

"I'm okay…." The last word trailed off as she noticed how much blood was gushing out of her leg. She changed her mind. "On second thought, that might be a good idea." Toby helped her stand and to his car. Sitting in the passenger seat, she took in her surroundings. The backseat was filled with stuff: empty Gatorade bottles, spiral-bound notebooks, textbooks, beat-up sneakers, and a pair of grey sweats. The seat cushion had worn off in some places, revealing a core of ratty blue foam. A Grateful Dead dancing bear air freshener hung from the rearview mirror. The car didn't smell fresh, though. It smelled sharp and acrid.

Toby walked to the passenger side and looked through the center console, leafing through CD cases and sheets of folded up paper. He pulled out small stack of Band-Aids and walked back over to Spencer. "Let me see your leg."

Spencer didn't protest as he crisscrossed a bunch of mini Band-Aids onto the scrape. A lock of dark hair fell over his eyes. "At school, I volunteered for the EMS unit. I kind of want to rescue everything now. Even, like, roadkill." He put one last Band-Aid on. "Do you want me to drive you somewhere?"

"The school, if you don't mind." He nodded and closed the passenger door after she moved her leg inside. He got back in the driver's seat and started the car. Spencer quietly inspected him. Toby really _had_ transformed. His formerly creepy-looking dark eyes now just looked deep and brooding. A rambling, bluesy song played on his stereo, and he drummed the steering wheel with his palms.

"So," Spencer started, "You're at Tate now?"

"Yup," he answered. "My parent's said if I got in, I could go. And I did. It's nice being close to home. I get to see my sister- she's at school in Philadelphia."

"And, um, where were you before? Maine?" She asked, making it sound like she didn't know he had been at the Manning Academy for Boys, which according to her Google research, was on Fryeburg Road in Portland.

Toby slowed down to let two little kids on Rollerblades cross the street. "Yep. Maine was pretty cool. The best thing about it was EMS."

"You didn't see anyone die, did you?"

At a stoplight, he turned and met her eyes. She'd never noticed before, but they were really dark blue. "Nope. But this old lady willed me her dog."

Spencer laughed. "Her dog?"

"Yep. I was with her in the ambulance and visited her in the ICU. We talked about her dog, and I said I loved dogs. When she died, her lawyer found me."

"So…. You kept the dog?"

Toby nodded. "She's at my house now. She's really sweet, but about as old as the lady." Spencer smiled, and something inside her began to thaw. Toby seemed sort of… normal. And _nice_. He pulled up at the school before she could say anything.

Toby parked the car and Spencer made a move to get out. Just as she opened the door, Toby grabbed her arm. A little spark shot up her arm. "Are you sure you're okay?" The corners of his mouth drooped down and his eyes widened in concern. When she nodded, he let go. He didn't drive off until she was inside.

Spencer limped up her house's long, brick-paved driveway. She opened the door. The only sound was the hum of the refrigerator. She tried to tiptoe to her room, but unsuccessfully so.

"Hey." Spencer jumped and whirled around. Melissa stood there, wearing dark pink velour sweatpants and faded Penn T-shirt, and her blunt-but, chin-length blonde hair was held back by a navy blue headband. Even Melissa relaxed, she still managed to look uptight. "What happened?" she asked, eying Spencer's limp.

"I tripped yesterday." Noticing where Spencer was headed, Melissa helped her up to her room. "Thanks." Spencer said as the entered her room.

Melissa beamed in response. There was a long pause, and then Melissa leaned up against a cherry highboy dresser. "Sooooo … what's going on with you? You going to Foxy? Ian asked me, but I don't think I'm going to go. I'm probably too old."

Spencer paused, completely thrown off guard. Was Melissa up to something?" These weren't the types of things they usually talked about. "I… uh… I don't know."

The phone rang, and Melissa picked it up in the hall. Within seconds, her head was back inside Spencer's room. "It's for you," she whispered. "A boy!"

"A… _boy_?" Who could be calling at three-fifteen on a Thursday afternoon? Spencer's mind scattered in twenty directions. She took the phone. "Hello?"

"Spencer? It's Toby."

Spencer glanced at Melissa. "Um, hey." She almost croaked.

"Just wanted to make sure you were alive."

"Oh." Spencer swallowed hard. She glanced at Melissa, who stood expectantly in the doorway. "Well, yeah, obviously, but I still have a limp."

"Hey, I'm not a miracle worker." Spencer smirked. But only slightly. Melissa was staring at her, almost willing her to ask him something, although she had no idea who Spencer was talking to. For the look on Melissa's face, Spencer could guess what it was.

"So… are you going to Foxy?"

"Foxy?" Toby repeated. "Um, I don't know. I-"

"Do you want to come with me?" She interrupted.

Toby laughed. "Seriously?"

"Um, yeah." Spencer said, her eyes on her sister.

"Well, yeah." Toby replied. "That'd be great. What time?"

"We'll figure it out." Spencer said, turning to the window. "I should go. Bye."

Then she hung up, feeling winded as if she'd sprinted miles and miles for field hockey. When she turned back to her door, Melissa was gone.

**A/N: Wow that took a long time. I'm starting to notice a pattern forming. Chapter one took one chapter from the book, chapter two took two, and now this chapter took three. It's getting really weird.**


	4. Surround Yourself With Abnormal

**A/N: The only problem with FanFiction is you can do **_**so**_** much with your story, but you have no idea which option to do. Like, for instance, I don't know whether or not to end this story with the end of **_**Flawless**_** and make a sequel with **_**Perfect **_**or to have the entire series in one story. But I think I might make it one story. I'm not sure yet.**

**With **_**Flawless, **_**I'm running out of material. So the next update (after this one) may be this weekend, Monday, Wednesday, or, if I don't have enough time, Thursday. I'm going to have to switch books, and they're at my mom's while I'm at my dad's. But I'm back at my dad's on Wednesday, and the computer here is the only one with Microsoft Word on it. This is really frustrating.**

**This chapter is going to be set during Thursday and part of Friday. Foxy is probably going to be in the next chapter.**

**Disclaimer: Toby and Spencer were never together, and Toby died, so I don't own it.**

Spencer could have been doing something more productive with her Thursday afternoon, but no, she just _had _to go to the Rosewood-Tate swim meet. _It'll be good for you_, her mother had said. Yeah right. What was so good about watching Scott Chin, Rosewood Day's yearbook photographer, torment the Rosewood swim team? _Poor Emily_, she thought as he snapped another picture of the team after crowing, "Say _butterfly_!" A lot of the kids thought Scott was gay. He never outwardly admitted it, but he didn't do anything to get rid of the rumors, either.

After watching Emily's torture for another minute, Spencer noticed Tate Prep's team strolling back towards their bleachers. Toby was in the middle of the pack, wearing a blue Champion sweatshirt and rolling his shoulders back and forth to warm up.

As soon as the swim meet broke for the diving competition, Spencer stood and maneuvered her way out of the crowded bleachers, preparing to walk over to Toby. Once she was, she took a deep breath and headed for the Tate bleachers. She glanced over her shoulder and saw Melissa. She kinda didn't want her there, but she wouldn't say anything. She and Melissa had a truce, no matter how temporary it was.

Toby had laid his towel on the natatorium tile and had headphones over his ears and an iPod on his lap. His hair was slicked back from his face, the royal blue of the sweats he was wearing over his Speedo made his eyes look even bluer. When he saw Spencer, he brightened. "Hey."

"Hey." She smiled. "So, um, I wanted to say thanks. For helping me yesterday. _And _the day before. Wow. Are you, like, stalking me or something?"

"No. Those were purely coincidental."

Just then, Scott appeared with his yearbook camera. "Gotcha!" he cried, and snapped a picture. "I can see the caption now: 'Spencer Hastings, vice president, flirting with the enemy!'" _Flirting?_ Is that what they were doing? She narrowed her eyes. He was getting annoying. As she opened her mouth to tell him off, he fluttered away. _He's so gay_, she decided.

When she turned to Toby again, he was playing with his iPod, so she started back for the Rosewood side. She'd taken three steps when Toby called out, "Hey, you want to get some air?"

Spencer paused. Melissa was staring at them, a strange emotion in her eyes. But, before she could identify it, it was gone and the neutral look that Melissa usually had was back. "Um, all right." She decided.

They walked through the Rosewood Day's natatorium's double doors, past a bunch of kids waiting for the late buses, and sat down on the edge of Founder's Day fountain. Water gushed out of the top in a long, shimmering plume. It was cloudy out, so the water just looked dull and white instead of sparkly. Spencer stared at a bunch of pennies on the shallow, shiny fountain bottom.

She looked up at him. "So, what teacher do you think is going to be pushed in this year?"

"What?" He was staring at her and, when she asked him the question, he snapped out of it. "I have no idea." Toby pulled out a package of chocolate chip cookies out of his bag. He held them out to her. "Want one? Pre-race snack?"

"Pre-race? I'm not getting into that pool."

He contemplated that for a second and said, "OK. Pre-cheering snack."

Spencer smiled and shrugged. "Maybe half."

"Good for you," Toby said, handing her one. He looked away. "It's funny how it's totally different between guys and girls. Guys want to out-eat each other. Even guys I know that are older. Like my shrink, in Maine? One time, at his house, we had a shrimp-eating contest. He beat me by six shrimp. And he's, like, at least thirty-five."

"Ew, shrimp." Spencer shuddered. Because she didn't want to ask the obvious – _You had a shrink?_ – she asked, "What happened after your, um, shrink ate all that?"

"He threw up." He skimmed the surface of the water with his fingertips. The fountain water smelled even more like chlorine than the pool did.

A luxury bus pulled into the Rosewood Day parking lot. Members of the Rosewood Day band slowly trooped off, still in their uniforms – red jackets with braided trim, flared tuxedo pants, the drum major in a goofy furry hat that looked like it would be really hot and uncomfortable to wear. "You, um, talk a lot about Maine," Spencer said. "Are you happy to be in Rosewood again?"

Toby raised an eyebrow. "Are _you_ happy to be in Rosewood?"

Spencer frowned. She watched a squirrel run circles around one of the oak trees. "I… don't know. Not… not really," she said quietly. "Sometimes, OK most of the time, I feel kind of wrong here. I used to think I… belonged here but now… I don't know. I feel like I should be somewhere else, somewhere more meaningful, but… I'm not."

He stared at her. "I hear that." He sighed. "There are all these perfect people here. And… it's like, if you're not one of them, then you're messed up. But I think, inside, the flawless-looking people are just as messed up as we are."

He turned his gaze to Spencer, and her insides turned over. She felt like her thoughts and secrets were 72-point-font newspaper headlines, and Toby could read all of them. But Toby was also he first person who'd expressed something close to how she felt about things. "I feel pretty messed up most of the time," she said quietly.

Toby looked like he didn't believe her. "How are you messed up?"

A clap of thunder exploded overhead. Spencer slid her hands inside her warm jacket sleeves. _I'm messed up because I try to be better than my sister. All the time_. But, instead, she looked directly at him and blurted, "I love storms."

"Me too," he answered.

And then, slowly, Toby leaned forward and kissed her. It was very soft and tentative, just a little whisper across her mouth. When he pulled back, Spencer touched her lips with her fingers, like the kiss might still be on her lips.

"What was that for?" she whispered.

"I don't know," Toby said. "Should I not have…?"

"No," Spencer whispered. "It was nice." Her first thought was, _Aren't I supposed to hate him like Ali did?_ Her second was that maybe Wren didn't seem to get the message that he should leave her alone.

"What?" she practically growled.

Wren didn't seem fazed by her harsh tone. "Nothing. I'm going to see Melissa. Not everything is about _you_, Spencer." And he walked off. Spencer clenched her fists tightly.

"Toby?" a voice interrupted them. A man in a leather jack stood under the natatorium awning, hands on his hips. It was Mr. Cavanaugh. Spencer recognized him from gatherings her parents held… and the night Jenna got hurt. Her shoulder muscles tightened. If Mr. Cavanaugh was here, was Jenna? Then she remembered that Jenna was at school in Philadelphia. Hopefully.

"What are you doing out here?" Mr. Cavanaugh put his hand outside the awning, feeling the rain, which had just begun to fall. "Your relay's soon."

"Oh." Toby jumped off the wall. He smiled at Spencer. "You going back in too?"

"In a sec," Spencer said weakly. If she tried to use her legs right now, they might not work. "Good luck with your race."

"Okay." Toby's eyes lingered on her for another moment. He looked like he was ready to say something else, but he broke away and fell into step with his dad.

Spencer sat on the stone wall for a few minutes, the rain soaking through her jacket. She felt oddly fizzy, like she was carbonated. What had just happened?

Friday in AP econ, Andrew Campbell leaned across the aisle and tapped the top of Spencer's notebook. "Did you finish your essays?"

Mr. McAdam had, after giving up on his battle with the over-head project-it happened every day in class, explained that if they e-mailed their essays in by tomorrow, they'd get five points extra credit to reward them for getting it in early. Spencer's had been done for two days and she couldn't wait to send it to Squidward.

"Yeah. Why?" Andrew had to be one of the nosiest people she had ever had the displeasure to meet. She narrowed her eyes slightly when he just shrugged and moved back over. She shook her head and turned to look at Squidward.

She ran a mental checklist: The first ten cantos of _The Inferno_ translated for Italian VI was finished for Monday. Her three-page essay on Plato was ready for Monday, too. She had studied for her calculus exam. And she was completely ready for the auditions for _The Tempest_, Rosewood Day's first play of the year, on Monday.

The bell rang and Spencer gathered her things slowly. Squidward was paying no attention, having already turned around to erase notes off the board.

Spencer was watching from her bedroom window as the sun started to sink into the trees. When her dad poked his head into her room, Spencer jumped. "We're eating soon," he told her. "Melissa's not joining us tonight."

"All right," Spencer answered. These were the first words he had spoken to her since the whole Wren fiasco.

Light reflect off of her dad's platinum Rolex. His face almost looked… repentant. Why? What did her dad have to feel bad about? "I picked up some of those cinnamon buns you like. I'm heating them up a little."

Spencer blinked. As soon as he said it, she could smell them in the oven. Her dad knew the cinnamon rolls from the Struble Bakery were Spencer's favorite food in the world. The bakery was a hike from his law office and he rarely had time to get them. It was clearly a sticky-bun olive branch. For what, she didn't know.

"Melissa tells me you're taking someone to Foxy," he said. "Anyone we know?"

"Toby Cavanaugh," Spencer answered.

Mr. Hastings eyebrows furrowed in the way they always do when he tries to remember something. He was muttering Toby's name, like it would help him remember. "Oh well," he said dismissively. "It'll come to me." Spencer hoped it would be _after _Foxy. He patted the door frame and continued down the hall.

Her cell phone rang, startling her. She glanced at it and saw the newly acquired I.D. popping up. She answered.

"Hey there." Toby sounded happy and boisterous when she picked up. "I was wondering if we should take a car or limo to Foxy?"

"And you couldn't ask me this in a text because…?"

"Well, I, uh… I guess I could've…I-" He sounded so flustered.

Spencer chuckled. "Relax. I'm just giving you a hard time. Car's fine."

"Oh, OK." She could hear a faint yell of '_Toby!_' on the other line. "I gotta go. I'll talk to you later?"

"Yeah. Good luck with… whatever that's about."

He laughed. "Thanks. Bye."

"Bye."

Spencer stared wistfully at the **Call Ended** window on her phone's screen. Their conversation had lasted a whopping one minute and forty-six seconds. As she passed her computer, she noticed a new e-mail at the top of her inbox. It had come in about five minutes ago, while she was talking to her father.

_You lucked out, Spence. Daddy doesn't remember Toby, or what he did. At least, what the town _thinks_ he did. Better be careful, you wouldn't want that to get. And I'm bad at keeping secrets. – A_

Spencer's stomach tightened. She glanced out the window, but there was no one on her lawn. Then she stuck her head outside, checking to see if someone had installed a surveillance camera or put in a mini microphone. But all she saw was her house's grayish-brown stone exterior.

"Spencer?" her mother called from downstairs. "Dinner!"

Spencer minimized the e-mail and walked absent-mindedly to the door. She was almost out of her room when her computer made another _ting_, and she turned back.

_P.S. You hurt me, so I'm going to hurt you. Or maybe I should hurt a certain new boyfriend instead? You guys better watch out – I'll show up when you least expect it. - A_

**A/N: Wow. I finished this at 2:15 in the morning. I just had to have insomnia. Oh well. At least I got something **_**somewhat**_** productive done.**


	5. Look What Listening Gets You

**A/N: I am, so, so, so, so sorry it took me this long to update. But to make up for it, this is going to be the longest chapter. Also, I'm going to make the whole series. I'd be too curious as to how the rest of the series would have played out if Toby were still alive. I might even mix some of the show into the books.**

**I have a goal for the summer: I want to write a story for each and every couple I ship in all of the places I ship a couple. But I need ideas. My couples are listed on my profile. If you have an idea for any of them, let me know and I'll try it out. Don't worry; I'm gonna finish this one and my others.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Pretty Little Liars. I thought it would be rather obvious after I've had to say it four times. Evidently not, since this is the fifth. I also don't own "Are You Gonna Kiss Me or Not?" by Thompson Square, "Crazier" by Taylor Swift, or "Never Gonna Be Alone" by Nickelback. I don't have that sort of talent. I can write a story, but never a song.**

Late Saturday afternoon, a few hours before Foxy, Spencer sat at her computer. She'd just addressed an e-mail to Squidward and attached her essays. _Just send it_, she told herself. She closed her eyes, clicked the mouse, and, when she opened her them, her work had been sent, hopefully not to come back with another B minus.

When someone put their hand on Spencer's shoulder, she screamed.

Melissa stepped back. "Whoa! Sorry! Just me!"

Spencer righted herself, breathing hard. "I…." She surveyed her desk. It was a complete mess, the opposite of how she usually kept it: clean. Papers were everywhere, as where pencils, pens, and other things she couldn't see.

"You stressed?" Melissa asked. "Lots of homework before Foxy?"

"Not… really." Spencer quickly shoved all of her desk's random papers into neat piles.

"Wanna borrow my lavender neck pillow?" Melissa asked. "It's a stress reliever."

"That's all right," Spencer answered.

Melissa pushed her lips together. "Well, not to make you more stressed, but there's a cop downstairs. He says he wants to ask you some questions."

"_What?_" Spencer cried.

"It's about Alison." Melissa said. She shook her head, making the ends of her hair swing. "They shouldn't make you talk about it – the _week_ of her memorial. It's sick."

Spencer tried not to panic. She stared at herself in the mirror, smoothing down her blonde hair and dabbing concealer under her eyes. She pulled on a white button-down blouse and skinny khaki pants. There. She looked trustworthy and innocent.

But her whole body was shaking.

Sure enough, there was a cop standing in the living room but looking into her father's second office, where he kept his vintage guitar collection. When the cop turned around, Spencer realized he wasn't the one she'd spoken to at the funeral. This guy was young. And he looked familiar, like she might've seen him somewhere else.

"Are you Spencer?" he asked.

"Yes," she said quietly.

He stuck out his hand. "I'm Darren Wilden. I've just been assigned to Alison DiLaurentis's murder case."

"Murder," she repeated.

"Yes," Officer Wilden said. "Well, we're investigating it as a murder."

"Okay." Spencer tried to sound even and mature. "Wow."

Wilden motioned for Spencer to sit down on her living room couch; then he sat opposite her on the chaise. She realized where she knew him from: Rosewood Day. He'd gone there when she was in sixth grade, and had earned a reputation as a 'bad boy.' One of Melissa's nerdy friends, Liana, had a crush on him, and once made Spencer deliver a secret admirer note to him at the expresso bar where he worked. Spencer recalled thinking that he had biceps the size of Chunky Soup cans. _Ew._

Now he was staring at her. Spencer felt her nose itch, and the grandfather clock made a few loud ticks. Finally, he said, "Is there anything you'd like to tell me?"

Fear shot through her. "Tell you?"

Wilden sat back. "About Alison."

Spencer blinked. Something about this felt wrong. "She was my best friend," she managed. Her palms felt sweaty. "I was with her the night she went missing."

"Right." Wilden looked at his notepad. "That's in our files. You talked to someone at the police station after she went missing, right?"

"Yes. Twice."

"Right." Wilden clasped his hands together. "Are you sure you told them _everything?_ Was there someone who hated Alison? Maybe the officer asked you all these questions before, but since I'm new, maybe you could refresh my memory."

Spencer's brain stalled. Truthfully, lots of girls hated Ali. _Spencer_ even hated Ali sometimes, especially the way she could always manipulate her, and how she'd threatened to point the finger at Spencer for The Jenna Thing if she ever told what she knew. And secretly, it was kind of relief when Ali disappeared. With Ali gone and Toby away at school meant their secret was hidden forever.

She swallowed hard. She wasn't sure what this cop knew. A could have tipped the cops off that she was hiding something. Sweat prickled on the back of her neck. "I'm pretty sure I told them everything," she finally said.

There was a long, long pause. Wilden stared at Spencer. Spencer stared at Wilden. It made Spencer think about the night after The Jenna Thing happened. She'd dozed into a fitful, paranoid sleep, her friends quietly crying around her. But, all of a sudden, she was awake again. The cable box clock said 3:43 A.M., and the room was still. She felt unhinged, and found Ali, sleeping sitting up on the couch with Emily's head in her lap. "I can't do this," she said, shaking her awake. "We should turn ourselves in."

Ali got up, led Spencer into the hall bathroom, and sat down on the edge of tub. "Get a grip, Spence," Ali said. "You can't spaz if the police ask us questions."

"The _police?_" Spencer shrieked, her heart picking up speed.

"_Shhh_," Ali whispered. She drummed her nails against the tub's porcelain edge. "I'm not saying the police are definitely going to talk to us, but we have to make a plan in case they _do_. All we need is a solid story. An alibi."

"Why can't we just tell them the truth?" Spencer asked. "Exactly what you saw Toby do, and that it surprised you so much, you set the firework off by accident?

Ali shook her head. "It's better my way. We keep Toby's secret, he keeps ours."

A knock on the door made them stand up. "Guys?" a voice called. It was Aria.

"Fair enough," Wilden finally said, breaking Spencer out of her memory. He handed her a business card. "Call me if you think of anything, all right?"

"Of course," Spencer whimpered.

Wilden put his hands on his hips and looked around the room. At the Chippendale furniture; the exquisite stained-glass window; the heavy, framed art on the walls; and her father's prized George Washington clock that had been in the family since the 1800s. Then he canvassed Spencer, form the diamond studs in her ears to the delicate Cartier watch on her wrist to her blonde highlights, which cost $300 every six weeks. The smug little smile on his face seemed to say, _You look like a girl with a lot to lose._

"You going to the benefit tonight?" he asked, making her jump. "Foxy?"

"Um, yeah," Spencer said quietly.

"Well." Wilden gave her a little salute. "Have fun." His voice was totally normal, but she could've sworn the look on his face said, _I'm not through with you yet._

/

Foxy was held in Kingman hall, an old English country-side mansion built by a man who'd invented some new-fangled milking machine in the early 1900s. In fourth grade, when they learned about the hall in the All About Pennsylvania unit, Spencer nicknamed it "Moo Mansion."

As the check-in girl scrutinized their invites, Spencer looked around. The place had a labyrinthine garden in its front yard. Gargoyles leered from the arches of the mansion's stately front. Ahead of her was a tent where the actual event was being held. It was lit up with fairy lights and full of people.

"Wow." Toby came up from beside her. Beautiful girls swished by them toward the tent, wearing elaborate, custom-made dresses, and carrying bejeweled bags. Spencer looked down at her own dress – it was a simple, strapless midnight blue sheath. She'd done her hair herself, put on a lot of Melissa's forgotten ultra-girly Lovely perfume – which had made her sneeze – and was wearing earrings for the first time in a while, poking them forcefully through the holes in her ears that had almost closed up. Even with all that, she still felt plain next to everyone else.

The car ride over had been completely comfortable. Until she decided to turn on the radio.

They car was pretty nice. It was kind of vintage. Toby was telling a lot of jokes, most of which kept her rolling. When Spencer had finally caught her breath, she realized how quiet the car was. She reached for the radio dial. "May I?"

"Go ahead." Turning up the volume, a country song Spencer didn't recognize came pouring out.

_Are you gonna kiss me or not  
>Are we gonna do this or what<br>I think you know I like you a lot  
>But you're 'bout to miss your shot<br>Are you gonna kiss me or not_

Spencer quickly turned the dial. Toby gave her a funny look. "I'm… not a big fan of country." He shook his head. She kept adjusting the dial, looking for something that didn't have anything to do with them.

She stopped at a station that had loud guitar chords playing. She didn't realize it was the end of the song before a commercial came on. Sighing, she tried again. By the time she had found another station to change to, they pulled up to Rosewood Day, effectively preventing Spencer from embarrassing herself even more. _Thank God_, she had thought.

"Smile!" A flashbulb popped in Spencer's face, and she let out a little scream, effectively bringing herself back to the present. When the spot faded from her eyes, a blond girl in a merlot-red dress with a press badge on her right side and a digital camera slung over her shoulder was laughing at her. "I was just taking photos for the _Philadelphia Inquirer_," she explained. "Wanna try that again, without the freaked expression this time?" Spencer clutched Toby's arm and tried to look happy, even though she was still completely annoyed at the fact that this girl thought almost blinding her was funny.

After the press girl whirled away, Toby turned to Spencer. "Is something wrong? You seemed so relaxed in front of the camera before?"

Spencer froze, confused. "When have you seen me in front of the camera?"

"The Rosewood versus Tate?" Toby reminded her. "That crazy yearbook kid?"

"Oh, right," Spencer breathed out.

Toby's eyes followed a waiter scurrying around with a drink tray. "So, is this your scene?"

Spencer smirked. "Wouldn't you like to know?" She looked around. "Not really. My parents are more into this kinda thing."

He looked around as well. "Everyone looks so… so plastic. I used to want to kill most of these people.

A sharp, startled frisson passed through Spencer. It was the same sort of feeling she got when she was alone in the house and she thought she had heard something. When Toby noticed her face, he quickly smiled. "Not _literally_." He squeezed her hand. "You're much prettier than all the girls here."

Spencer flushed. She found her insides turning upside down when he said it and when he touched her. Just like they _should_. Toby looked hot. Gorgeous, actually, in his black suit and black wingtips, with his hair pushed back off of his angular, square-jawed face. Every girl was checking him out. When he'd shown up on her porch, even well-mannered Melissa had squealed, "He's so cute!"

Spencer tried to relax. She and Toby had made their way into the tent, got two virgin pina coladas, and joined a bunch of kids on the dance floor. There were only a handful of girls who were trying to dance in that uber-sexy, hands-above-the-head, I'm getting my moves down for MTV Spring Break way. Most everyone else was just jumping around, singing along to Madonna. Technicians were setting up a karaoke machine in the corner, and girls were writing down the songs they wanted to sing.

Spencer broke away to go to the bathroom, leaving the tent and walking through a sexy, candlelit hallway paved in rose petals. Girls passed her, arm and arm, whispering and giggling.

"Want a reading?"

Spencer looked over. A dark-haired woman dressed in a silky, paisley-print dress sat at a small table under a huge portrait of Horace Kingman, the milking-machine inventor himself. She wore a ton of bracelets on her left arms and a large snake brooch on her throat. A deck of cards sat next to her along with a little sign at the edge of the table: THE MAGIC OF THE TAROT.

"That's okay," Spencer told her. The tarot reader was so… public. Out here in the open, in the middle of the hall. And besides, Spencer never bought that whole "seeing the future" stuff anyway.

The woman extended a long fingernail toward her. "You need one, though. Something's going to happen to you tonight. Something life-changing."

Spencer stiffened. "_Me?_"

"Yes, you. And the date you brought? He's going to be a part of it. You must be careful of what you say."

Spencer's mouth fell open, and her mind began to race. _What could that possibly even mean? _

The tarot reader looked as if she was about to say something else, but Naomi Zeigler pushed past Spencer and sat down at the table. "I met you here last year," Naomi gushed, leaning excitedly on her elbows. "You gave me the best reading ever."

Spencer slunk away, her mind churning. Something was going to happen to her tonight? Something… _life-changing?_ Maybe Melissa was going to tell her parents everything. Or maybe Wren would slip past their guard and tell her parent everything. Or A had told Toby what he already knew, reminding him about Spencer's part, making him hate her yet again. It could be anything.

Spencer splashed cold water on her face and exited the bathroom. As she made the turn for the tent, she bumped into someone's back. As soon as she saw who it was, her body tensed.

"Hey," Aria said what could only be described as a mock-friendly tone, drawing the word out. It wasn't too surprising. They hadn't really spoken since Ali disappeared, and even with Ali they hardly talked at all. She wore a dress that looked like she was about to sleep with someone, considering the zipper was down, showing her lacy black bra. It didn't look like she was going to a stupid dance, one that Spencer really was starting to wish she hadn't come to. And it wasn't because of Toby.

"H-Hey," Spencer stuttered. "I didn't know you were coming."

"Neither did I," Hanna huffed. "But things change." It was silent for a minute, until Hanna looked over Spencer's head and jerked her head in a way to tell whomever she was looking at to come over. Behind her, Spencer heard two sets of heels but didn't turn. If Hanna had anything planned, Spencer would be able to take it.

Now at her side were Hanna and Emily, the other two people she hadn't really spoken to since Ali's disappearance. Spencer looked at the three of them, who in turn looked determined to say something. It was kind of hard to focus, though, with the tension she could feel between Hanna and Aria. And for what, she wouldn't really know.

"Spencer…Spence," Aria started, her nervousness showing. "We really need to talk to you."

Spencer crossed her arms over her chest, wondering just where this was going."

"Yeah," Emily chimed. Hanna looked as if she had no idea what was going on. "Spence… WethinkTobymightbeA." She said the last part in a rush, more than likely hoping Spencer wouldn't be able to decipher it. But she could. She did that to her parents all the time. It was how she got away with most things.

"_What?_" She almost shrieked. She let out a dark, humorless laugh. "You guys are real funny. Ha ha. I can't wait to see what you come up with next. Are you going to tell me that Jenna isn't really blind? Or, better yet, Ali's still alive. You guys are sick. I can't believe I'm still standing her listening to this." She whirled around, her dress billowing out behind her. She stormed back into the tent, ignoring the calls of "Spencer!" and "Spence!" behind her.

/

Spencer got back into tent. By then, the place was mobbed. The valet line was twenty cars long, the wanna-bes who hadn't been invited swarmed around the entrance, and the main tent was jammed with kids at tables, around the bar, and on the dance floor. She spent a few minutes trying to get in. When she finally did, she heard the end of a song just as she found Toby.

_You lift my feet off the ground  
>You spin me around<br>You make me crazier, crazier  
>Feels like I'm falling and I<br>I'm lost in your eyes  
>You make me crazier,<br>Crazier, crazier  
>Crazier, crazier<em>

"Alright." The DJ, who seemed to have had _way_ too much of the obviously spiked punch, shouted. "That was Taylor Swift everybody. Next up is a song requested by an anonymous person. They called themselves 'A'. They requested it for a special couple. This is for you, Spencer and… Toby!" _You have _got_ to be kidding me. _She glanced over at the entrance in time to notice Hanna, Aria, and Emily freeze where they are at the mention of the now dreaded letter. She turned away from them.

_Time, is going by  
>So much faster than I<br>And I'm starting to regret not spending all of it with you  
>Now I'm wondering why, I've kept this bottled inside<br>So I'm starting to regret not telling all of it to you  
>So if I haven't yet, I've gotta let you know<em>

As she turned her attention back to Toby, ignoring the stares she kept getting, she realized he was walking towards her. As he got to her, the stares had multiplied. He held out his hand to her, a silent way of asking if she would like to dance. She took his outstretched hand and allowed him to pull her out onto the not-as-crowded-as-before dance floor.

_You're never gonna be alone  
>From this moment on<br>If you ever feel like letting go  
>I won't let you fall<br>You're never gonna be alone  
>I'll hold you 'till the hurt is gone<em>

Toby proved looks could be deceiving. For someone who looked like they couldn't, Toby was an excellent dancer. Spencer had to admit he was one of the best partners she had ever had, including her father, whom had gone to almost seven years of dance classes. Toby was a natural.

_And now as long as I can  
>I'm holding on with both hands<br>'Cause forever I believe  
>That there's nothing I could need but you<br>So if I haven't yet,  
>I've gotta let you know<em>

A may be a twisted, twisted person, but they had great taste in music. Nickelback wasn't a band she usually listened to, but after tonight, she was definitely going to start.

_You're never gonna be alone  
>From this moment on<br>If you ever feel like letting go  
>I won't let you fall<br>When all hope is gone  
>I know that you can carry on<br>We're gonna take the world  
>I'll hold you 'till the hurt is gone<em>

When Toby spun her away from him, while never letting go of her hand, Spencer saw the three girls staring at them in shock, as if they had expected her to dump Toby after what they had told her. With little to no proof, she wasn't going to be them. As he spun her back, she put a little more feeling into it, if that were possible.

_You've gotta live every single day  
>Like it's the only one<br>What if tomorrow never comes  
>Don't let it slip away, could be the only one<br>You know it's only just begun  
>Every single day, may be our only one<br>What if tomorrow never comes  
>Tomorrow never comes<em>

People had formed a circle around them, with only a few other couples dancing, like in those cheesy princess movies Spencer used to always watch with Melissa, when they used to get along as little kids. If all the staring hadn't made Spencer a little uncomfortable, she would've laughed at how cliché this was.

_Time, is going by  
>So much faster than I<br>I'm starting to regret not telling all of this to you_

_You're never gonna be alone  
>From this moment on<br>If you ever feel like letting go  
>I won't let you fall<br>When all hope it gone  
>Know that you can carry on<br>We're gonna take the world on  
>I'll hold you 'till the hurt is gone<em>

_I'm gonna be there all of the way  
>I won't be missing one more day<br>I'm gonna be there all of the way  
>I won't be missing one more<em>

As Toby twirled her one more time, the song ended. Spencer completed her circle before clapping. She turned to Toby. "You might hate me for asking this, but… do you mind if we leave?"

Toby smiled. He had to shout to be heard over the next loud and obnoxious song. "I was _hoping_ you'd ask that."

On their way out, Spencer noticed Hanna was standing on the edge of the dance floor. From what she could see from Hanna's profile, she looked as confused as Spencer felt. Spencer considered going up and talking to her to try and figure out what in the _hell_ was going on. Then Toby pulled on her hand, and Spencer decided against it.

As they pulled out of the parking lot, Spencer rolled down the window. The night smelled delicious, like pine needles and oncoming rain. The moon was huge and full, and thick clouds began to roll in. It was so quiet outside, Spencer could hear the car's tires slapping along the pavement.

"Are you alright?" Toby asked.

Spencer jumped a little. "Yeah, I'm fine." She glanced at Toby. He told her he'd bought a new suit for this, and now she was making him go home three hours early. "I'm sorry the nigh sucked."

"It's cool." Toby shrugged.

Spencer turned over the little Tiffany box that sat in her lap. She'd plucked one off the table right before she left the tent, figuring she might as well get her parting gift.

"So nothing happened?" Toby asked. "You're so quiet."

Spencer blew air out of her cheeks. She watched three different cornfields roll by before she answered. "I was accosted by a tarot reader."

Toby frowned, not understanding.

"She just said that something was going to happen to me tonight, Something, um, life-changing." Spencer tried to muster up a laugh. Toby opened his mouth to say something, than quickly shut it.

"But I don't believe in that crap!" Spencer said, almost as quickly as Toby had shut his mouth. "I guess the fact that I can't get it out of my head is what's bugging me so much." Spencer picked at the gift's white bow. Raindrops began to splatter the windshield. She took a deep breath. "Maybe my sister and I will _finally_ get along. We never did before."

Toby shifted in his seat uncomfortably. It wasn't every day Spencer opened up to someone.

Spencer ran her hands along the white gardenia Toby had given her as a corsage. "The thing is, maybe we weren't _meant_ to get along. I mean, I did, like, sometimes be the one to cause a fight. But I thought it was what all siblings did. You know, strive for their parents attention. Maybe it's not true. Maybe my family is more screwed up than I thought. Maybe I should just deal with it."

Spencer couldn't believe all that had just spilled from her mouth. She turned to Toby. His mouth was a fixed, impassive line. He quietly said, "Why are you so afraid to admit that?"

"Because!" Spencer laughed. Wasn't it obvious?" Because I don't want to _be_… you know. From a jacked up family. And then in a quieter voice: "No one would understand me anymore."

They rolled up to a deserted two-way stop sign. Instead of pausing and rolling though, Toby put the car into park. Spencer was puzzled. "What are we doing?"

Toby took his hands off the steering wheel and stared at Spencer for a long time. So long, Spencer began to feel uncomfortable. He seemed upset. She touched the back of her neck, then turned away and looked out the window. The road was silent and dead and paralleled yet another cornfield, one of Rosewood's biggest. The rain was coming down harder now, and because Toby didn't turn on the windshield wipers, everything was blurry. She wished, suddenly, for civilization. For a car to drive by. A house to appear. A gas station. Something.

"You've never been on that end of it, have you?" Toby finally asked. "You've never had anyone make fun of you."

"N-No…" She searched Toby's face, trying to understand the question. "I guess not. Well, not since Ali, anyway." Thunder cracked overhead, and she jumped. Then she saw a zigzag of lightning, slashing across the sky a few miles ahead of them. It lit things up for a moment, and Spencer could see Toby frowning, picking at a button on his jacket.

"Seeing all those people tonight just made me realize how it used to be, living in Rosewood," he said. "People used to really hate me. But tonight, everyone was so nice-all these people who used to make fun of me. It was sickening. It was like it had never happened." He wrinkled his nose. "Do they not realize what jerks they were?"

"I guess not," Spencer said, feeling uneasy.

Toby glanced at her. "I saw one of your old friends there. Hanna Marin." Lightning flashed again, making Spencer jump. Toby smiled crookedly. "You guys were such a clique, back then. You really let people have. Me… my sister…"

"We didn't mean to," Spencer said, on instinct.

"Spencer," Toby shrugged. "You did. And why not? You were the most popular girls in school. You _could_." His tone was sharply sarcastic.

Spencer didn't try to smile, even though she was hoping this was a joke. Why were they talking about _this?_ "I'm sorry. We just… we were so stupid. We did what Ali wanted us to do. And I mean, I _did_ argue with her, but she usually won. She had that skill to make you feel bad or blackmail you into doing what she wanted. Maybe I should have fought her more. She really could have toned it down."

"I know what you mean," he said quietly. "It was hard for me _see _her. Now it's hard for me to even hear her name." He put his palms to his forehead and let out a huge breath. When he faced her again, his eyes were dark. "Especially after… after what she did."

Spencer stared at him. Lightning flashed again, and a stiff wind kicked up, making the cornstalks sway. They looked like hands, desperately reaching out for something.

"Wait, what?" She laughed, hoping- praying- she'd heard him wrong. Praying that she'd blink, and the night itself would right itself and go back to being normal.

"I think you heard me," Toby said in a flat, emotionless tone. "I know you were friends and you card about her and whatever, but personally, I'm glad that bitch is dead."

Spencer felt like someone had sucked all the oxygen out of her body._ Something's going to happen to you tonight. Something life-changing._

_You really let people have it. Me… my sister…_

_It's hard for me to even hear her name. Especially after what she did…_

_AFTER WHAT SHE DID._

_I'm glad that bitch is dead._

The girls… _were right?_

A crack started to form in her brain. They _were_ right. She was sure of it, more certain than she'd ever been of anything in her life. Spencer felt as if she'd known this, that it had been right in front of her face, but she'd been trying to just ignore it. Toby knew what they'd done to Jenna, and was still mad about it. He'd kept it inside for a long time. And he must hate Ali for it. He must hate all of them, since he knew they were involved.

"Oh my God," Spencer whispered. She pulled at the doo handle, gathering her dress in her hands as she stepped out of the car. The rain hit her immediately and felt like needles. Of course there was something suspicious about Toby being friendly to her. He wanted to ruin Spencer's life.

"Spencer?" Toby unbuckled his seat belt. "Where are you -"

Then she heard the engine roar. Toby was driving down the road towards her, the passenger door wide open. She looked right and left, and then, hoping she knew where she was, she dove into the cornfield, not even caring that she was getting absolutely soaked.

"Spencer!" Toby called again. But Spencer kept running.

Toby killed Ali. Toby was A.

/

Spencer almost sobbed with relief when she discovered her house's side door open. She threw her soaked body into the laundry room, nearly bursting into tears at the insulated, untroubled domesticity of everything: her mother's BLESS THIS MESS! Cross-stitch above the washer and dryer she kept to make it look like she actually did the laundry' the neat row of detergent, bleach, and fabric softener on the little shelf; the gardener's green rubber gardening boots by the door.

Spencer grabbed a towel from the laundry pile, and wrapped it around her shoulders. She'd run crazily through the cornfield. The rain created rivers of mud between the rows. One of her shoes had fallen off, but she'd kept going, and now the bottom of her dress and her legs were filthy. The field butted up to the woods behind her house, and she'd torn through those, too. She'd slid twice on wet grass, scraping up her elbow and hip, and once, lightning hit a tree just twenty feet from her, violently snapping branches to the ground. She knew it was dangerous to be out there in a storm, but she couldn't stop, afraid Toby was right behind her. A crack of thunder radiated through the sky, making Spencer cower.

Then, she heard a voice. "Spencer! Spencer?"

She froze. It sounded like it was coming from the kitchen. She sprinted in there and saw Toby looking in, his hands pressed against her sliding glass door. The rain had soaked through his suit and matted down his hair, and he was shivering. His face was in the shadows.

Spencer almost screamed.

"Spencer!" Toby said again. He tried the door handle, but Spencer quickly latched it.

"Go away," she hissed. He could… he could burn down their house. Break in. Suffocate Spencer while she slept. If he could kill Ali, he was capable of anything.

"I'm getting soaked," he called to her. "Let me in."

"I… I can't talk to you. Please, Toby, _please_. Just leave me alone."

"Why did you run away from me?" Toby looked confused. He had to yell, too, because it was raining so hard. "I'm not sure what happened in the car. I was just… I was sort of messed up from seeing all those people. But that was years ago. I'm sorry."

The sweetness in his voice made it even worse. He tried the handle again, and Spencer shouted, "No!" She was thankful no one was home. Toby stopped, and Spencer looked around frantically for something that could be a weapon. A heavy, ceramic chicken plate. A dull kitchen knife. Perhaps she could root around in the cabinets and find the griddle… "Please." Spencer was trembling so badly, her legs were wobbly. "Just go away."

"Let me at least give you back your purse. It's in my car."

"Just put it in my mailbox."

"Spencer, don't be ridiculous." Toby start pounding angrily on the door. "Just get over here and let me in!"

Spencer picked up the heavy kitchen plate on the kitchen table. She held it out in front of her with both hands, like a shield. "Go away!"

Toby pushed his soaked hair off his face. "The stuff I said to you in the car… it came out all wrong. I'm sorry if I said something that-"

"It's too late." Spencer interrupted. She squeezed her eyes shut. All she wanted was to open her eyes again and for all this to be a dream. "I know what you did to her."

Toby stiffened. "Wait. _What?_"

"You heard me," Spencer said. "I. Know. What. You. Did. To. Her."

Toby's mouth fell open. The rain fell harder, making his eyeballs look like hollow pits. "How could you know about that?" his voice wobbled. "No one… no one knew. It was… it was a long time ago, Spencer."

Spencer's mouth dropped open. What, did he think he was so sly he could get _away_ with it? "Well, I guess you're secrets out."

Toby started to pace back and forth across her deck, running his fingers through his hair, "But, Spencer, you don't understand. I was so _young_. And… and confused. I wish I hadn't done it…"

Spencer felt a huge tug of regret. She didn't want Toby to be Ali's killer. The sweet way he'd helped her out of his car, how he'd defended her in front of Wren, how lost and vulnerable he'd looked when Spencer had glanced at him, standing alone on the Foxy dance floor. Maybe he really was sorry for what he'd done. Maybe he'd just been confused.

But then she thought about the night Ali had gone missing. _I'm glad that bitch is dead_. Spencer had never heard anything so horrible in her life.

"Please," Toby cried. "I can't go through all this again. And neither can-"

He couldn't even finish his sentence. Then, suddenly, he covered his face with his hands and ran away, back into the woods in her backyard.

All was quiet.

She was all alone.

The buzzing of her phone, the one she had left on the kitchen counter, thinking she wouldn't have needed it, broke that silence. She tentatively picked it up. The LD screen announced she had a message from Hanna, one of the last people she had ever expected to have a message from. She opened it.

_Spence, I don't know what Aria and Em were going on about, but I had already talked to Wilden about Toby. They already ruled him out. He's not a suspect. He didn't do anything. So don't do anything stupid. – Hanna_

_What?_ Oh no. What had she done?

Spencer dropped the phone back on the counter, after exiting the message. She ran to the sliding glass door and threw it open. She sprinted towards the woods, hoping to get to Toby before he did anything drastic.

**A/N: And that is where I must leave you off at. That took forever to write. You must have loved me when you saw I updated and when you saw how long it was. And now you must hate me for leaving it with a cliffhanger of some sorts. I promise I won't make Toby kill himself. He will be in the other books, like he should have been. And… wow. This chapter was, according to Microsoft Word, 5,766 words, not including the author's notes. My neck is killing me! This is the longest thing I have written on FanFiction. Man I feel accomplished. This was so long that I wasn't able to proofread it the way I usually would, so if you notice any mistakes, let me know**


	6. Ah, Hospital Life

**A/N: Well, I decided to update sooner rather than later. As of now, I am no longer using _Flawless_ for a guide line, considering I can't anymore. Actually, I used it a little. But after the last chapter I used, everything was about the four of them finding out Toby had nothing to do with A or Ali's death and was completely innocent, right after some dude on a bike found him dead in the woods. So, do you think I should end this story with this chapter and make a sequel, or just continue to make this one giant story? Either way, I'm writing the whole series. It bugged me that Toby died. A lot. Also, I'm going to follow some things from the show. So, in my story, Spencer knows Toby was … 'touching' Jenna, but I'm gonna go with the show on this one and make it so Toby didn't want to, but Jenna blackmailed him into it, but he still feels bad about it even though it wasn't his fault, which, by the way, is one thing I _still_ don't get. Spencer doesn't know that, but she will in about five minutes, or however long it takes for you to get to that part.**

**Oh, and before I forget, I fixed the last chapter. A big thanks to _MusicRox526_ for pointing out I said 'Emily' instead of 'Spencer' twice in the last chapter. I never would've caught that. But, in my defense, I was typing almost verbatim from the book, and it is such a mindless task that I sometimes find myself writing Emily. I can't help it. Throughout this whole story, I've had to remind myself to write Spencer on numerous occasions. I guess I just forgot. Oh well. It's fixed now. No worries. Anyway, I guess I'm done making bogus excuses. This chapter shouldn't have any of that, since I'm not using the book. If you notice a difference in the writing, which I hope doesn't happen but probably will anyway, that's why.**

**Disclaimer: Is my name Sara Shepard? No? You don't know because I never actually told you my name? Then the wonderful _Pretty Little Liars _series isn't mine. So… on with the story!**

If there was one thing Spencer learned from this night, it was that running through the woods and over mud, leaves, sticks, and some things she _really_ didn't want to know about sucks when you're only wearing one shoe and a torn dress, a jacket your only defense from the cold. But, she had to do something quickly and changing would've slowed her down.

She pushed branch after branch out of her way, thankful that the cover of trees kept the pouring rain off of her. The dark was now the only thing that was giving her a problem. But she kept running. It was a good thing she was in field hockey or she would be having a lot of problems with her breathing right now.

As Spencer got further into the woods with no sign of Toby, the more worried she got. He must've been really upset. If it wasn't guilt for killing Ali, then what was it? Spencer slowed as the thought hit her like a ton of bricks. _Jenna_. He must've been talking about the thing with Jenna! She had forgotten all about it. Why, who knew? But the point was she had and now she was stuck running through the woods looking for Toby. _Not exactly how I planned to spend the night_, she thought, almost bitterly.

After what seemed like hours, Spencer noticed something up ahead of her. About three yards away was something that looked like it didn't belong in the woods. Right off of the bike track that ran through the dense woods, was Toby. He wasn't moving, and that scared her. Pushing herself even more, Spencer ran to his side, almost collapsing next to him.

She shook him. "Toby? Toby!"

When he didn't move or respond, she checked his pulse. It was faint, but it was there. He was still alive, but barely. She had to get help, but she couldn't leave him. Relief flooded her when she found he had his phone in his front pocket. Hers wasn't going to be helpful, since it was lying on the ground somewhere in her kitchen. She flipped it open. Dialing quickly, she pressed the phone to her ear.

A voice sounded after two rings, sounding completely bored. "911 Operator. What is your emergency?"

"My friend! He's… he's not moving. His pulse is faint and… and I think he's breathing and he needs an ambulance!"

"OK, ma'am? You're gonna have to calm down*. You need to tell me your location."

Spencer looked around frantically. Oh God, where _were_ they? Panic started building as she realized her ignorance might cause Toby to _die_. Shaking that from her thoughts, she practically yelled, "I don't know! About a mile into the woods? I don't know! We're somewhere next to the bike trail, but I'm not exactly sure where! Please," At this point, Spencer was almost hysterical. "You have to find him. I don't know what's wrong and I don't want him to die!"

"I'm sending an ambulance as we speak. They'll be there soon, hon." And, without warning, the lady she was starting to really hate cut the connection. Spencer pulled the phone away from her ear in disbelief as she heard the dial tone. Weren't they supposed to be _helpful?_

Spencer was putting the phone back into Toby's pocket when she saw it: A piece of paper. She carefully pulled it out of his grip. The paper was actually the Foxy auction list; Toby had scrawled something on the back. Seeing the way Toby's words didn't stay between the lines, that he barely used any capital letters, and that he had signed the note _Toby_ in wobbly cursive made in the dim light of the small LD screen made Spencer clench up inside. It was a suicide note. She unfolded it and looked at the letter. There, right in the middle, was her name.

_Spencer, three years ago, I promised Alison DiLaurentis_  
><em>I'd keep a secret for her if she kept a secret for me. She<em>  
><em>promised that secret would never get out, but I guess it has.<em>  
><em>I've tried to deal with it – and to forget it – and when<em>  
><em>we became friends, I thought I could …. I thought I'd<em>  
><em>changed – that my life had changed. But I guess you can't<em>  
><em>really change who you are. What I did to Jenna was the<em>  
><em>biggest mistake I've ever made. I was young and confused<em>  
><em>and stupid, and I never meant to hurt her. And I can't live<em>  
><em>with it anymore. I'm done.<em>

Spencer folded the note back up, the paper quaking in her hands. She put the note in her jacket pocket. Finding a bottle of pills, which he obviously must've swallowed, she pocketed that too, scratching off the name as she did so. It was prescribed to him anyway. Toby's breathing changed. It was shallower. And that scared her. Thankfully, she knew CPR. By the time the EMTs finally got their lazy butts there and Toby onto a stretcher, Spencer had already gotten his breathing halfway back to normal.

She followed close behind the EMTs, not wanting to be left in the woods alone, especially with A watching. With a few little white lies and learned persuasion techniques (courtesy of Ali, Melissa and years of practice), Spencer was riding in the back on the ambulance, Toby's cold hand clutched in hers.

It didn't take long to get to the hospital. To Spencer, though, it did. The EMTs wheeled Toby into an area where they told her she couldn't follow; an area where Toby was probably going to have his stomach pumped.

As she sat in the hard, uncomfortable plastic chairs, Spencer wanted nothing more than to call one of the girls and tell them everything. But, for Toby's sake, she wouldn't. And, anyway, it wasn't like she, Aria, and Emily were exactly getting along. Hanna… she never was close to her.

A balding man dressed in the mint green scrubs with a white overcoat walked over to her. "Spencer Hastings?"

She looked up. "Yes."

"You're friend is stable now. You can go visit him now. He's in room 214." Relief flooded through Spencer for the second time in the last ten minutes. She stood to go to Toby's room, but the doctor stopped her. "Do you have any idea what happened to him?"

Spencer, now clad in some extra clothes the hospital had, reached into an actual pocket and pulled the empty bottle of pills out. "I found this at Foxy." She easily – too easily – lied. "I guess someone slipped some in his punch without him knowing or something. I only picked it up because I thought if someone got sick I could turn it in."

The doctor, completely buying her lie, nodded and took the bottle, examining it as he walked away. Shaking her head slightly, she walked down the overly white, Lysol-smelling hallways. 210… 212… Ah, 214. Spencer paused outside the door, taking in a deep breath before slowly opening the door. Without looking at Toby, she turned quickly and quietly closed the door. She turned around, bracing herself for what she would see.

The room was a mint green, obviously there to try to calm down the patients and visitors. It didn't help Spencer much. She was used to seeing Toby pale, but this was ridiculous. If it weren't for the steady beeping of the heart monitor sitting next to the obviously uncomfortable bed, she would've thought the doctors were too late.

She sat the plastic dark green chair next to the bed, grabbing his big hand in her smaller one. His hand was much warmer now. She could faintly make out the smell of his soap he used over the scent of disinfectant, as overpowering as it was. It was a smell she now associated with comfort; the soap, not the disinfectant.

As she sat in the silence of the room, aside from the heart monitor and the drip of the IV that was hooked up to a drained looking Toby, she wondered if someone had called Toby's parents. She wondered if Jenna would come as well. She didn't know why (of course she did), but she hoped Jenna wouldn't.

Spencer looked at Toby again. Even with the dark circles under his eyes and his dirty, matted hair, he looked peaceful in his drug-induced sleep. Staring at him, she decided right then and there that she would keep Toby's suicide attempt a secret. He didn't seem to think he'd live, and she was pretty sure he wouldn't want to live under suicide watch.

Toby's heart monitor sped up slightly. Spencer jumped from her seat in horror, about to call for a doctor before Toby's eyelids started fluttering. He was waking up. She slowly sat back down, never taking her watchful gaze off of him. He groaned lightly, his eyes shooting open before closing again in the bright light. Groaning again, he forced himself to open his eyes, blinking rapidly in an attempt to adjust his eyes.

He didn't notice her at first, but when he did he looked shocked to see her at his bedside. "Spencer?"

"You're awake!" She cried, lowering the volume of what she had to say next when he cringed at her loud tone. "Do you want me to get the doctor?"

"Not- not yet." Cutting off whatever she was about to say, he continued. "We really need to talk."

Spencer nodded. "We do." She took the note from her pocket and sat it down on his (thankfully) steadily rising chest.

He looked down at it, then back up at her, confusion shining in his eyes. "Why are you here?"

"Do you not want me here? Because, I can go-"

"No!" He interrupted loudly and quickly. "No." He said again, quieter this time.

"Then what do you mean?"

He gave her a look that said, _Really? _"With the way you were acting earlier, I would've thought you wanted nothing to do with me."

Spencer sighed before taking a deep breath. "About that... we've had a _huge _misunderstanding. You were talking about Jenna while I was talking about some entirely different."

Toby considered that for a few seconds. "Then who were you talking about?"

"Alison." She interrupted whatever he was going to say this time. "I know how stupid that is… and I'm sorry. I got some ideas put into my head, and I listened to them. And I can't say it enough, but… I'm sorry."

Spencer hated apologizing. It was something she had never liked doing and only did when she absolutely had to or absolutely meant it. She was pretty sure Toby knew that. Almost everyone else did. If Spencer Hastings ever apologized to you, she meant it.

"What exactly did you think I did to…? You thought I killed her, didn't you?"

"I didn't _want _to believe, but with the way you were talking..." Spencer trailed off, leaving the unfinished statement in the air.

Toby looked down and then back up, a look of determination on his still-too-pale face. "Look, about the thing with Jenna-"

Spencer held up a hand, cutting him off. "You already explained that in your 'letter'. You were young and stupid and-"

"No, Spencer. There's more to the story. I didn't think it would matter, you know… if I was dead… but now it does. I _did_ start a relationship with her, but when our parents got together, I wanted to end it. But Jenna didn't want to. She told me it wouldn't be too hard for her to convince our parents that I forced myself on her, make herself look like the victim. And there wasn't anything I could do. What Alison saw was exactly what Jenna wanted people to think. And that would've been the story she told my parents. So I took the blame.

"Keeping _that _a secret wasn't the only reason I took the blame. I got sent off to a boarding school. I was away from home, away from Rosewood, away from _Jenna. _And it was such a relief. I may have been grateful that Alison got me away from her, but that doesn't mean I wasn't glad she's dead. Before I was sent off, she'd hold it over my head, give me these _looks_, like she knew everything. But, obviously, she didn't. Now that's she's gone, you, me, and Jenna are the only ones that know this."

_And A, _Spencer thought wryly. "Why didn't you tell your parents?"

Toby let out a bark of sarcastic laughter. "Yeah,_ that _would've gone over well. Jenna's not gonna tell the truth and there's no way in hell they're gonna believe me when almost the whole town thinks I'm the one who blinded her. It's best I just let it go."

"But-" Spencer tried to protest, but she could tell from the look on his face that he wasn't going to budge. Suddenly, the door was opened and a _tap, tap, tap _entered the room. Spencer launched forward and grabbed the note off of Toby, shoving it back into her pocket. Both Spencer and Toby's heads snapped towards the sound. When they saw who it was, they had the same look of dread on their faces.

_Jenna._

Jenna's covered, unseeing eyes roved around the room. She blindly (no pun intended) called out, "Toby? You awake?"

When Toby opened his mouth to respond, Spencer shook her head, mouthing, _Pretend to be asleep. _Toby nodded and closed his eyes. Spencer cleared her throat. "No, sorry. He's still out."

Jenna's head turned to stare in her general direction. A falsely sweet smile settled on her face. "Spencer," She dragged out. "How sweet of you to be here for Toby. But he has me now. You can go."

Toby chose that moment to 'wake up'. "Spencer?" He groaned, pretending that he didn't notice Jenna standing there looking like she could kill.

Fighting off a smirk, Spencer squeezed his hand. "Hey. You're awake."

Toby's parents barged in then. The first thing out of Toby's father's mouth was "What happened?"

Toby looked like he had no idea what to tell them. Spencer had her already made-up story. And she told his parents the same one. "He just woke up, so he doesn't know."

Everyone's heads, everyone being Toby's dad and Jenna's mom, turned their focus from Toby to Spencer. Jenna hadn't taken her glare (or what she assumed was a glare) off of her since she last spoke up.

"Do you know what happened then, Miss…?"

"Hastings. Spencer Hastings. And I do. The doctor told me."

"Ah, Spencer. You were the one that found him, yes?" Jenna's mother asked.

"Um, yeah."

"So what happened?"

"It was a, um, drug overdose. Uh, someone at Foxy must've, um, slipped it into his punch or something. I found a, um, pill bottle there and I picked it up. Just in case, you know? I've already given it to the doctor."

"You've been here the whole time?"

"Uh huh."

It was probably the awkward silence that made Toby's parents leave to "go talk to the doctor" and drag Jenna with them. When the door closed behind them, Spencer turned to Toby. She wanted to talk to him, but she didn't know what to say. But it wasn't like he was starting a conversation, either.

"Thank you." Toby said softly.

Spencer shook her head. "Don't thank me. Just… don't. It was the least I could've done. If I hadn't listened to anything I was told, you would probably be home right now and not hooked up to more machines than most people could name getting fed medicine through a needle."

Toby didn't look happy that she had said that. "Spencer," he scolded. "None of this is your fault. It was my choice."

Spencer looked at him sadly. "And if I had let you explain, would you still have run off and done this?"

He didn't reply. Instead, he scooted over to one side of the bed, patting the space he just made. Spencer shook her head and he patted it more insistently. She stood and laid down next him, his arm wrapping around her shoulder and pulling her into his side. Spencer smirked when she realized something."

"We're both wearing dresses."

Toby laughed. They laid there wrapped up in their thoughts when Spencer's phone vibrated. She froze, knowing exactly who it was. Spencer got up and sat back in her seat, not wanting Toby to see anything about the message. Spencer opened her inbox.

_My, my Spence. Toby's just full of secrets, isn't he? Remember this, bitch. Just because you're keeping quiet, doesn't mean I will. - A_

***Don't you just hate when the 911 operators say that? I mean, really. If you think someone you care about is dead, or your house is burning down, or you're hiding in your bathroom from a burglar/ psychotic serial killer, how the hell are you supposed to calm down? *mumbles* Idiots**

**A/N: That took longer to write then I thought it would. But, oh well. As for the 214 thing, I couldn't resist :) So do you think I should just make this one big story or end it here and make a sequel? **


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